She walks like her hips are a soup ladle.
Thick spoonfuls of negative space.
Like a jutting bulldozer,
straining upward,
before the final wobble at its highest point.
The anticipation in a pendulum.
The hangtime of a swing.
That’s how she walks.
– Rachel R. Vasquez, date unknown (2012?)
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Found this in an old notebook of mine. 😊
Rachel's Floetry 